


cradle your flames.

by lotuminu



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, Movie Spoilers, Post Movie, galolio, hand holding, i might make a companion fic in lio's pov but we'll see..........., intentional lowercase, it's galo's pov :3c, they're just a pair of dumbasses but they're valid, tho they're subtle....but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 01:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotuminu/pseuds/lotuminu
Summary: the art of not letting go.* ( or , galo & lio hold hands ).





	cradle your flames.

_lio’s hand is warm._

it’s warm, but not as the doing of otherworldly entities, whose flames rest within quivering limbs and ashen corpses; it’s warm, in all the ways that are _human_.

the warmth isn’t devouring –instead, it brings forth comfort.

current situation –an unforeseen occurrence. it’s like some old aquarelle painting –smudged and hazy, from the rise to the beginning, all for the sake of the present moment of shared contact. it’s light, but still present all the same. galo already took notice of how lio’s hand is _so small_ compared to his own (not that it would come as a _shock_ of any kind). 

any form of eye-contact is skillfully avoided by both of them. lio looks off to the side, nonchalance residing _well enough_ within both his expression and form. on the other hand, galo is anything but calm –but still, it’s not like he _ever _reaches an admirable level of tranquility. being boisterous and far-too-loud seemed to be one of his most noticeable traits, after all. instead of standing still, his eyes fall onto the other boy’s brightly colored hair. _it looks soft_. he briefly wonders if lio would mind if he touched it. _just slightly_. only to test if it’s as fluffy as it appears to be.

he delivers a firm mental slap to himself.

the fleeting thought is enough to make him recoil ; attention no longer upon the ex-burnish, as it settles in the opposite direction (he had never noticed that crack in the wall before-).

but _oh_, the feeling of their fingers –holding onto each other, yet not quite –is too distracting. lio still hasn’t moved an inch from his initial position. that was a good sign? _maybe?_ galo wasn’t really sure if this whole situation even _meant _anything. after all, it wasn’t initiated by neither him _nor _lio. an accidental touch –faint brushing of skin against skin, not planned at all.

_but they hadn’t moved away. _

drifting thoughts are a dangerous thing.

all this time, the green-haired male hasn’t said a word. or even looked at galo, for that matter. it’s unsettling, in a sense.

and so, he decides to take the matter into his own hands.

_or … not really. _

experimentally, arm surges with lethargic movement. _slowly._ just now, he’s given the opportunity to take note of how the other’s skin is both soft and rough, at the same time. he supposes it makes sense –lio is defined by an ethereal visage, but also by heavy burdens. leather-bound or not, his hands are enough proof.

…

galo is getting distracted again.

making sure to be as unnoticeable as possible (which was quite a task, actually), he finally lifts most of his hand.

he misses the contact already.

although, the separation lasts no longer than a moment. to galo’s surprise, lio–immediately grabs onto his hand, again. without even turning around.

his brain stops in its tracks.

‘h-hey, lio-‘ a mumble, stained with his obviously unconcealed surprise. at this point, he might as well be _concerned_. ‘are you-‘

the slightest of gasps are exhaled into the room’s air, as lio pulls his arm away (almost as if he got _burned_). the sheer apprehensiveness of the action evicts a gasp from galo, as well. in the shortest passing of time, he manages to meet lio’s eyes.

usually, amethyst tinted gaze is stone cold. but also –ferocious, passionate ; all the things that make _lio who he is_. but now, it’s uncertain and wavering and _it’s galo’s fault and he can’t help the guilt that threatens to spill over –_

‘sorry.’ lio speaks, in a tone that doesn’t fit him _at all_. ‘i’ll just-‘

no time is given to finish the sentence, as galo is already standing up, with the suddenness that is almost enough to make both of them topple over.

‘galo, what are you doing -?!’ once again, he receives no reply, as the taller male moves and engulfs both of lio’s hands with his own (with more strength than necessary). galo’s brows furrow with concentration, enough to contrast the other’s utterly shocked expression. but of course, questioning their current _predicament_ would easily be proven to be completely useless. therefore, lio is left with no other option but to hold galo’s _hands _back.

they spend some time like _that_ ; facing each other, eyes intense and _locked in battle, _all with their fingers interwined.

‘you know, you look really weird when you’re not wearing black-’

‘oh, _shut it_.’

**Author's Note:**

> ppl in the promare discord server inspired me to write my own galolio fic (even tho i have yet to see the movie) so shoutout to yall !!


End file.
